In My Dreams, Shadows Call
by GracieP8
Summary: Will Anastasia ask everything of Dmitri or listen to the music of the night? Phantom of the Opera AU. Cover art by me
1. The Gala

**Anyways, we've got a new story… and updates might be slow since I want to focus on my other fanfics on first. The ideas for casting the Phantom, Christine and Raoul aren't mine… credit goes to "Little Tangled Beauty" on Tumblr for the main trio's castings:**

**Anya- Christine**

**Dmitri-Raoul**

**Gleb-Erik/The Phantom**

**The rest were based on my own opinions or made-up OCs for the sake of the story. And also, Team Raoul for life (Haters gonna hate)!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

It was a cold December afternoon in St. Petersburg, Russia, 1900… It was the first night of the season at the St. Petersburg Opera House… a new production was being performed later that night… the same day the new managers, Count Vladimir Popov and his wife, Countess Lily Malevsky-Malevitch, had arrived at the opera house…

"Rehearsals as you can see are underway for a new production of Hannibal…" The manager, Sergei explained to the two before walking onto the stage "Ladies and gentlemen, please…" When no one paid attention, he repeated "Ladies and gentlemen…" before sighing "Madame Feoderovna!" And with a sharp snap of her cane, a hushed silence fell over the opera house; unwilling to incur the old woman's wrath…

"Thank you," Sergei sighed with relief "May I have your attention please? As you know, for some weeks there have been rumours of my imminent retirement. I can now tell you that these were all true and it is my pleasure to introduce to you the two people who now own the opera house."

"I am Countess Lily Malevsky-Malevitch, and this is Count Vladimir Popov" Countess Lily introduced.

_"P-O-P-O-V!"_ Count Popov interjected, putting emphasis on the spelling of his name.

The performers bowed and clapped politely to give the two a warm welcome. "May I introduce Miss Natalya Plisetsky, our leading soprano for five seasons now!"

"Of course, of course, I have experienced all your greatest roles, Madame" Vlad politely shook the prima donna's hand, eager to get off the right foot due to her reputation "If I remember correctly, you have a rather fine aria in the final act of the show… I wonder, Madame, if, as a personal favour, you would oblige us with a private rendition? Unless, of course, if Mister Gregory objects…"

"My manager commands… Mister Gregory?"

"Will two bars be sufficient enough?"

"Two bars will be quite sufficient."

"Madame?"

_"Maestro."_

_"Think of me, think of me fondly when we said goodbye,"_ Natalya warbled as a few stagehands covered their ears for the most beautiful sounds could turn into noise for your ears if you listen to it constantly and for five seasons _"Remember me once in a while, please promise me you'll try. When you find that, once again, you long to take your heart-"_ She was interrupted by a loud shriek as a piece of scenery fell over, revealing a mutilated corpse of a stagehand…

* * *

Anastasia Nikolaevna's gut twisted at the stagehand's corpse, the other chorus girls shrieked at the horrific sight. "He's there!" Maria, her sister whispered as she shivered in fear "The Phantom of the Opera!"

"He is with us… It's the _ghost_…" Another chorus girl screamed.

"Is nobody concerned for _our prima donna?!"_ Anatoly, Natalya's husband, cried out in frustration.

"Madame, are you alright," Sergei enquired the opera diva "For God's sake! Madame Feoderovna, what is going on?!"

"From what I observed, there was no one there monsieur." Her grandmother said, matter-of-factly "and if there is, well there _must_ be a ghost." That caused another rapture of terrified screams amongst the performers.

* * *

"Madame! Please!" Countess Lily cried out in desperation as she saw the soprano storm away from the opera house "These things _do happen!_"

"These things _do happen?_ You have been here for _five minutes_, what do _you_ know? Yes! These things _do happen_ – _all_ the time. And did _you_ stop _them_ from happening? No!" Natalya ranted to Sergei before turning to the two "And _you two_…you're as bad as him! _"These things do happen!"_ Well, until _you stop these things from happening, this thing does not happen!_" before she stormed away from the opera house…

_"Amateurs…"_ Anatoly scoffed quietly as he followed her behind like a puppy following its master.

After a brief pause, Sergei began as he also left "I don't think there's much more to assist you. Good luck. If you need me, I shall be in Paris…"

The company looked anxiously at the new managers, unsure about what to do. "Um… Natalya will be back." Count Popov began "Right?"

"Are you sure? I have a message, sir, from the Opera Ghost." Madame Feoderovna said cryptically. Upon hearing the word _"The Opera Ghost"_, the girls began to twirl and twitter in fear. "He merely welcomes you to his opera house and commands you to continue to leave Box Five empty for his use and reminds you that his salary is due." She continued indifferently.

"His salary?"

"Master Sergei paid him twenty thousand rubles a month. Perhaps you can afford more, with the Count Ipolitov and one of his friends as the patron of your opera…"

"Madame, I had hoped to have made that announcement myself."

"Will the count and his friend be at the performance tonight, sir?"

"In our box," Count Popov confirmed, nodding affirmatively.

"Madame, who is the understudy for this role?"

"There is _no understudy,_" Gregory sighed in defeat "the production is new."

* * *

"Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov could sing it!" Maria piped up, pushing her sister to the front of the two.

"Romanov… a curious name indeed… _any relation_ to the violinist?" Countess Lily wondered.

"One of his daughters, he was my son after all…" Madame Feoderovna spoke up for the petite chorus girl, tongue-tied at the sudden offer.

"She's been taking lessons from a great teacher!" Maria continued to persuade.

"From whom?"

* * *

The question made her uneasy. Anastasia was forced to never reveal the identity of the person who taught her, after all; he never showed himself to her… so she had to choose her words carefully _"I… I don't know, sir…"_

"Oh, _not you_ as well!" Countess Lily cried out, obviously miffed at how superstitious the performers were "But since the only option is to cancel the show…"

"Let her sing for you. She has been _well taught._" Madame Feoderovna continued.

"From the beginning of the aria then; Madame…" Gregory began to play the aria once more…

_"Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye."_ She sang hesitantly before running away, however; her grandmother had stopped her dead in her tracks by tapping her cane to the ground _"Remember me once in a while. Please promise me you'll try…"_

"Lily, this is doing _nothing_ for my nerves!"

"Don't fret, Vlad…"

_"When you find that, once again, you long to take your heart back and be free… if you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me…"_ Her clear, powerful soprano began to resound the theatre as her confidence slowly grew.

* * *

On the night of the gala, her voice soared like a songbird throughout the Opera House, her stage fright was banished in an instant _"We never said our love was evergreen or as unchanging as the sea. But if you happen to remember… stop and think of me… Think of August, when the world was green; don't think about the way things might have been…"_ Every word was clear and full of her own raw emotions as she wore her heart on her sleeve_ "Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned. Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind. Think of me, please say you'll think of me! Whatever is you choose to be! There will never be a day when I won't think of you…"_

* * *

Dmitri's eyes darted onto the girl he remembered from when he was ten… _"Can it be? Can it be Anastasia?"_ He wondered before giving a standing ovation "Brava! Brava!" His friend, Count Ipolitov and the two managers looked at the young man in bewilderment as he began to reminisce over their fond childhood memories.

* * *

_Ten years ago…_

_It was a bright and breezy summer day, a perfect day for going to the beach, and that was exactly what little Dmitri and his father was doing… "Look Dima!" His father smiled fondly as he carried his son on his shoulders "Bet you can see all the way to Finland from up there, Dima!" The strong wind ruffled their dark hair… it felt nice for the boy to have a change of scenery… He had been inside all day studying arithmetic and reading long-dead authors in Latin, and frankly, it was boring him. Granted he was the perfect student—he dedicated himself completely to his schoolwork—but he much preferred being outside at the beach on a hot, summer day such as this to being stuck indoors._

_He breathed in the salty sea air and grinned. It was really the perfect day for a swim. His dark eyes skimmed over the water but froze upon seeing a honey-blonde haired girl on the shore. His breath caught in his throat for a moment and slowly a smile began to form on his face. In that short moment dozens of words must have come to the young count's mind. in an attempt to describe the girl, but none of them seemed accurate enough. 'Beautiful' was too cliché, 'pretty' was too much of an understatement—'angelic'? 'Angelic' worked._

_Thus he stood there staring in a rather unbecoming way for a count for a good few seconds until he realized that the girl's expression had changed. She threw her arms in the air as if to catch something. His eyes followed a red object soaring through the air and plummeting toward the waves—a scarf. The boy immediately started running toward the ocean._

_His father saw this and cried out in worry "Dmitri! Come here!" He called, as he followed his son "Dmitri Sudayev!"_

_Dmitri, however, was not listening to his father's pleas. All he thought about was the look of distress on that girl's face. "Don't worry, I'll get it!" he shouted reassuringly as he dashed past her and into the surf, swimming rather expertly toward where he had seen the scarf fall. With a great intake of breath, the boy went under. A few minutes passed and he re-emerged from the sea, clutching the red scarf. Scarf and boy were both soaked, but he was grinning nonetheless._

_"I'm terribly sorry that it got wet—but here it is." He apologized, handing the scarf to her. Water was dripping off the ends of his hair, and his clothes were completely soaked through. In addition, he was cold and shivering slightly. He must have looked a sight, but at the moment he didn't care. All the young count wanted was to see the girl smile again. The girl waded in about ankle deep to meet the boy as he swam toward the shore and walked up to her, handing her the scarf, both he and the scarf completely soaked through._

_She laughed when the boy apologized for it getting the scarf wet. "Oh, don't worry about it. It will dry out." She took the scarf from him, grinning from ear to ear and then began wringing it out. "Thank you for getting it. My name is Anastasia, by the way. Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov. But you can just call me Anastasia."_

_He smiled when she laughed and pushed some of his hair out of his face so he could better see. She had a lovely laugh—like music, almost. Her smile was quite charming as well—and contagious. There was something about her face that seemed to put him at ease. Usually he was very shy around other people, especially those he had not yet met—but then again, he had not really met too terribly many people, and hardly any his age. But the young nobleman was sure that she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen._

_He took her hand gingerly and kissed it as he had been taught in his lessons in etiquette. "It's nice to meet you, Mademoiselle." he stated, beaming as he let go of her hand. "I'm Dmitri, Count Dmitri Sudayev." he added after a moment, remembering how his mother had told him to always state his title. "You have a very pretty name..."_

_Anastasia blushed a pretty peach shade as he took her hand and she smiled as he bowed to her, forming a beautiful friendship…_

* * *

_"What a change! You're really not a bit the little girl that you were once back when you were eight! She may not remember me, but I remember her..."_ Dmitri smiled to himself.

* * *

_"We never said our love was evergreen or as unchanging as the sea. But please promise me that sometimes, you will think…"_ Anastasia continued before beginning the cadenza leading up to the end of the show _"Of me!"_

The whole house went mad, rising to its feet, shouting, cheering, clapping, Anastasia bowed gratefully as the curtain closed…


	2. The Angel of Music

**Updates might be quick because I have written a decent amount of half of the story for a week, well up until the Phantom (aka. Gleb) has been unmasked in a scene based on "I Remember/Stranger than You Dreamt It". I also did a little research on the "Phantom" story and also added a few "Beauty and the Beast" elements to the story.**

**Note that most of it was based on the Kay novel, Leroux novel and of course, the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical.**

**Also, read "Christine Daae, Where is your red scarf?" as it was the main inspiration for this chapter. And I made a Spotify playlist for the story! (I'll share you the links if you are curious)**

**Please review!**

* * *

When the curtain closed to signify the end of the opera, the chorus girls dashed out of the wings to congratulate Anastasia. She was swarmed with praise and acclamation from the girls until Madame Feoderovna slammed her cane to the ground to silence them.

"Yes, you did well…" Her grandmother smiled approvingly, which was rare for the old woman "He _will_ be pleased." Before looking sternly at the other ballerinas "And you! You were a disgrace tonight! Such _ronds de jambe_! Such_ temps de cuisse_! Here we rehearse. _Now!_" and raptured her cane to the floor once more. Soon after, the girls filed out and began to rehearse again as Madame Feoderovna kept time by tapping the cane to the beat of the music…

* * *

_"Brava, brava…"_ Anastasia heard once she slowly opened the door to her dressing room and entered_ "Bravissima…"_

"Anastasia! My goodness!" She turned around to see her closest sister Maria, relief filled her heart as she recognised the familiar face "You were incredible that night! You were honestly perfect that if you weren't my sister and my closest friend, I might have been jealous of you! However…"  
"However…?"

"However, I only wish I _knew_ your secrets… who is that mysterious tutor?"

"Maria…" Anastasia began, lowering her voice to a whisper, feeling as though she could trust her "When we came here to live… whenever I had come down here alone to light a candle for father… a voice, from above… and in my dreams, he was always there… do you remember the tale of the angel of music our father used to tell us?"

"Why of course…" Maria reminisced "How could I forget those stories he used to tell our sisters and brother when we went to sleep…"

"When father had died… he told me _I_ would be protected by an angel… an _angel of music_…"

"Anastasia, stories like this can't come true…" Her sister began uneasily "And you're talking in riddles, it _isn't_ like you…"

"Now, I can sense him and I _know_ he's here…"

"Who is _this angel of music?_"

"He's with me even now…" The young woman began as she felt her hands shaking and her heart thundering.

"Your hands are cold…"  
"All around me…"

"Your face… it's white…"

"It _frightens_ me…"  
"Don't be frightened…"

Suddenly, they heard a familiar snap of a cane as the two girls turned to see their grandmother, with a stone-like expression of no-nonsense behaviour…

"Maria Nikolaevna Romanov! Are _you_ a dancer? Then _come and practice._" Madame Feoderovna ordered sternly as the young woman scurried away to rehearse. When her sister left, Madame Feoderovna glanced around the room, almost as if she was checking on who might overhear them… "My dear, I was told to give you this…" before thrusting an envelope in her hands before leaving.

Curiously, Anastasia gently opened the envelope and read its contents slowly as her childhood memories of that summer came back to her "A red scarf… the attic… Little Anya…"

* * *

_Ten years ago…_

_It was a bright and breezy summer day– a perfect day for going to the beach, and that was exactly what little Anastasia, her siblings and her father were doing… Nicholas Romanov was a fairly well-known traveling violinist and he had brought his violin to the beach to play while his children sat in the sand, listening to him._

_Anastasia was wearing a simple white cotton dress and a red scarf… Now, one might ask why she would be wearing a scarf in the middle of summer. The answer was quite simple, really: it was her very favourite thing to wear in the whole world… after all, it was the last gift her mother had given before she died three years ago and she had worn it ever since to remember her fondly… But the scarf was not only something that she liked to wear – it also proved to be a great toy. She would often go on adventures by herself and the scarf would come along with, playing a crown, or a monster, or even a bridal veil. Needless to say, it explained part of the reason why she never parted with it. It was great fun for playing pretend. So many fond memories were tied to that scarf._

_Anastasia was sitting in the sand, listening to her father's playing, when the wind caught hold of her scarf and ripped it from her grasp, blowing it out toward the sea. "Oh no!" She cried, as she quickly got up, trying to grab it, not bothering to brush the sand off of her. She was too late though. She chased it down to no avail, for the wind had blown it out into the ocean._

_The eight-year-old was up running, trying to catch the scarf, when all of the sudden she heard the voice of a boy coming from behind her. "Don't worry, I'll get it!" She slowed to a stop and turned just in time to see a flash of chocolate brown whip past her and dive into the sea toward the fallen scarf._

_She watched with baited breath, teetering back and forth on the tips of her toes, trying to see what was happening. Both the boy and the scarf had gone under. It had been a couple of minutes since he had gone under and honestly, she was beginning to worry. Maybe someone should go in after him. She wasn't the strongest of swimmers, but... Suddenly the boy emerged from the water and Anastasia let out a sigh of relief. In his hands, he was clutching the red scarf. The girl waded in about ankle deep to meet the boy as he swam toward the shore and walked up to her, handing her the scarf, both he and the scarf completely soaked through._

_The little girl laughed when the boy apologized for it getting the scarf wet. "Oh, don't worry about it. It will dry out." She took the scarf from him, grinning from ear to ear and then began wringing it out. "Thank you for getting it. My name is Anastasia, by the way. Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov. But you can just call me Anastasia."_

_She saw the young boy blush profusely and smile shyly before saying "I'm Dmitri, Count Dmitri Sudayev. You have a very pretty name..."_

_Anastasia was quite surprised when the boy took her hand and kissed it. She certainly hadn't expected such a gesture, especially not from a boy who didn't seem much older than she was. It was only something she'd seen grownups do on occasion, or heard about in fairy tales – never something she'd actually experienced before. She couldn't help blushing a little. It was just like the princes in the stories her father would tell her. And then she laughed. "Nice to meet you Dmitri…"_


	3. The Mirror

**To clear up some confusion, in this AU, Dmitri is a count like Raoul so… nothing much to add for this author's note, I guess… also, two chapters in one day! I'm on fire!**

* * *

"A _tour de force!_ No other way to describe it!" Count Popov boomed, in high spirits after the successful event "Oh, What a relief! _Not_ a single refund!"

"Greedy…" Countess Lily muttered, clucking her tongue; although, she could secretly agree with him that Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov was quite a gifted girl with a natural talent…

"Lily, I think we've made _quite_ a discovery in Miss Romanov!"

* * *

"Here we are, Count Sudayev!" Count Ipolitov said, snapping his friend out of his reverie. He looked at the brass handle of the door. _"What if she forgot about me? What if she refuses to go to dinner with me? What if… what if…"_ Doubt began to rise in him before taking a deep breath _"You'll be fine! You're a count, for God's sake! You need to act braver than what you may think!"_ he scolded himself before saying "Now, if you wouldn't mind. This is one visit _I_ should prefer to make unaccompanied."

"As you wish, monsieur…" Count Ipolitov smiled before bowing and gesturing the countess and her husband to go with him. Dmitri sighed before muttering to himself _"Keep your nerve and see this through…"_ as he knocked on the wooden door _"She will remember those fun childhood memories we had!"_

* * *

Anastasia heard a knock on the door while skimming the contents of the letter and said "Come in!" curious on who that person was…

"Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov, _where_ is your scarf?" A deep, cheerful voice playfully teased.

"Sir?" She began, sensing the familiarity of that voice.

"You can't have lost it. After _all_ the trouble I took. I was ten and soaked to the skin…" The voice began to feel closer as a tall, dark-haired young man loomed over her.

"Because _you_ had run into the sea to fetch my scarf. Oh, Dmitri! So it _is_ you!" Anastasia smiled before racing to embrace him. She suddenly pulled away and sat at her dressing room table after remembering something…

"Little Anya let her mind wander…" Dmitri began to sing the familiar nursery rhyme as he gently thrusted a rose in her palm.

"You remember that, too…" She smiled cautiously as he continued "Little Anya thought 'Am I fonder of dolls…'"

"…or of goblins, of shoes…" they sang together, reminiscing over their childhood memories. "or of riddles of frocks"

"Father playing the violin…" Anastasia smiled before Dmitri interjected "As we read to each other dark stories of the North…"

"No what I love best, Anya said, is when I'm asleep in my bed, and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head!" Anastasia smiled before they finished the nursery rhyme together "…the Angel of Music sings song in my head!"

Anastasia whispered quietly as she turned to face him "Father said, _'When I'm in heaven, child, I will send the Angel of Music to you'_. Well, father _is_ dead, Dmitri, and I _have_ been visited by the Angel of Music countless times!"

"No doubt of it. And now we'll go to supper!"

Panic and fear crossed the young woman's face "No, Dmitri, the Angel of Music is _very strict!_"

"Well, I _shan't_ keep you up late!" Dmitri argued, shaking his head as he opened the door.

"No, Dmitri…" Anastasia began to protest.

"You must change. I _must_ get my hat. Two minutes, Little Anya!" Dmitri smiled before closing the door.

"Dmitri…" Anastasia called after him, although she knew it was no use "Things have _changed,_ Dmitri…"

"Who is that _ignorant_ fool _daring_ to bask in your glory?" a loud voice boomed angrily as she looked around the dressing room in fear. "That insolent boy _shall not_ share in my triumph!"

"Angel of music… who are you? _Every night_ you come…" She wondered, somehow spell-bound by him "Guide me… my soul was weak… forgive me and show yourself to me, master!"

"I am your angel of music…" The voice softened to an almost eerie, ethereal, song-like quality "Come to me, angel of music…" Feeling as though she could trust him, she slowly walked to the glowing, shimmering glass in the mirror…

* * *

"Come to me, angel of music…" Dmitri stopped dead in his tracks as he heard an unfamiliar voice in the room. Suspicions rising, he fiddled with the doorknob to open it _"Who is that voice?! Who is that in there?!"_ He threatened before pleading "Anastasia! Anastasia!"

"I am your Angel of Music…" an inferno of white light shone as the mirror opened. A tall, masked man reached out his hand as she gently placed her hand on his "Come to me, angel of music…" His already firm grasp tightened and Anastasia let out a small gasp as she felt the chilliness of his hand. They soon disappeared through the mirror, which closed behind her, disappearing into the deep depth of darkness…

* * *

"Anastasia!" Dmitri cried out as the door finally swung open, only to find the room empty "Angel?!"

* * *

**Oh shoot! A cliff-hanger? Well, I'll just roll with it! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!**


	4. The Lullaby

**I'm back! Sorry for the lack of updates! Life just got busy but since it'll be term break in a few weeks from where I live, I think updates might be a little faster… This chapter is a little flashback that builds up to the chapter surrounding the boat ride scene and "Music of the Night". It explains how Anastasia had known of the Phantom (aka. Gleb)…**

**Also, some light-hearted humour before things get dramatic.**

* * *

_One year ago…_

"Places, places everyone, _please_! Right, once more, from the top!"

The conductor raised his baton and tapped it on the music stand before him until he was sure he got everyone's attention. He took one final glance at the performers gathered on stage, and those around him in the orchestra pit, and swung the baton. The musicians took the cue and began playing a slow, melodic waltz as the performers on stage quickly began stepping back and forth in time to the music and to each other, dancing elegantly across the wooden platform, their quick, light footsteps making hardly a sound.

A spotlight was turned on in the rafters and the gangways above the stage and spun down to illuminate the prima donna herself, Natalya Plisetsky. For you see, the manager Sergei was quite fond of her and often gave her the starring roles due to her great contributions of patronizing the St. Petersburg Opera House… however… well… she had a _marvellous_ voice, but… what she _lacked_ in talent, she made up for it in _volume…_

Natalya raised an arm to her chest and took a deep breath. A few people backstage instinctively covered their ears and cringed in anticipation. The first note rang out across the opera hall, strong as a gale. She sang, loudly and with practised skill, sent her voice out to fill _every_ nook and cranny of the auditorium. The spotlight was curled around Natalya like a cloak as she sang.

* * *

The second verse began and the dancers joined her in the chorus. Anastasia's eyes had wandered all over the opera house as she sang. It was then that she saw a cloaked figure in box five, and when she looked at box five again, it disappeared in the blink of an eye! As the woman sang of a lost love being reunited by fateful chance at a masquerade ball, Anastasia could picture the scene, seeing lavish colours and vibrant banners decorating the ballroom, while masked and costumed people danced and spun around and around in an endless waltz.

The music built to a crescendo as Natalya's voice climbed higher and higher. However, as she hit a high C, the illusion was shattered by an ear-piercing noise. Anastasia winced at the screech and a few stumbled like they had been struck. The chandelier jingled as the blasting note resonated through the theatre. The conductor calmly put out a hand to steady the sheet music before him as it threatened to blow away. Anastasia could barely make out the strangled notes of the strings section as their bows slipped from their grasp or the squeak of the brass as they choked on their own breath. One or two of the dancers faltered, messing up their steps and crushing the foot of their partner.

Finally, the ordeal ended as Natalya finished her song.

The conductor pulled out an earplug and said "Thank you, Madame Plisetsky, ladies and gentlemen… I think that _will_ do _for now._ When we reconvene, we'll go over the ballet in Act Three."

* * *

"I think I saw a cloaked person…" The words slipped out of Anastasia's mouth before she could stop them.

"Really?" Paulina choked as Anastasia nodded silently.

"It could only mean one thing… it was _the_ Phantom of the Opera!" Paulina's friend, Dunya said enigmatically, a serious expression crossing her face.  
"The Phantom of the Opera?"

"Yes… do you know about the curfew rule in the Opera House?" Dunya continued.  
"Well, one night, Marfa snuck out of her bedroom after she heard a noise…" Paulina added, not waiting for an answer.  
"And when I looked out of the door" Marfa interjected "It was the cloaked man! I nearly screamed when he caught me… and I _barely got away_ from him!"

_"An opera ghost… could it be?"_ Anastasia wondered to herself before hearing a sharp tapping noise on the ground.

"We rehearse… _now!_" Her grandmother said sternly as she looked at the chorus girls.

* * *

_Later that night…_

Anastasia could feel hot tears threatening to spill out of her eyes as she slept… it was _another_ memory of her father… even though it had been nearly three months since her father's passing, the grief still felt just too raw to handle… _"No,"_ she scolded herself as she wiped away her tears _"You can't cry… you have to be strong… strong, not afraid of anything…"_ The door was still open as she quietly sang to herself a lullaby she remembered from not so long ago…

* * *

Gleb was quietly making his way to the secret entrance of his lair in the dressing room for they had finished rehearsals… it was then he heard the most beautiful voice he had heard in a while…

_"Far away, long ago… glowing dim as an ember…"_ He tiptoed to the direction that the singing was coming from in wonder. He had never heard such a lovely voice in all his life. _"Things my heart used to know, things it yearns to remember…"_ It was from a beautiful, young chorus girl around his age, she had a seraphic voice that could make an angel cry _"And a song, someone sings… Once upon a December…"_ The man sighed to himself.

_"Beautiful,"_ he muttered "With some tutoring, she _could_ be something…"

* * *

Anastasia felt chills down her spine as she felt the presence of an unknown figure lurking outside the room, frozen on her bed, she dared not to move or make another sound…

_"Touch me, trust me, savour each sensation, let the dream begin, let your darker side give in… To the power of the music that I write, the power of the music of the night"_ from the very millisecond a clear, rich tenor reached her ears, the young woman felt own body relax as the lullaby continued _"You alone can make my song take flight… Help me make the music of the night"_ _Was it the angel of music? Did he come like what her father had promised?_ Anastasia was unable to answer those questions herself as her head hit the pillow and her closed her eyes as she succumbed to the music of the night…

* * *

**Just to be clear, I don't ship Phantom/Erik and Christine! Nor do I ship Gleb and Anya/Anastasia!**


	5. The Music of the Night

**This chapter was the most difficult to write in my opinion. So… please give any critique! Also, if you're familiar with the "Phantom of the Opera", this fic is going to deviate from the plot just a little to better suit Anastasia, Gleb and Dmitri, as well as other characters who will be making appearances throughout the upcoming chapters!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Anastasia opened her eyes. She looked around her new surroundings uncertainly, there was nothing but darkness… the giant candelabrums were the only source of light in his lair… There was a huge pipe organ as the Phantom walked up to it and slammed the keys aggressively.

_"You have come here, for one purpose, and one alone…"_ The Phantom boomed _"Since the moment I first heard you sing, I have needed you with me, to serve me, to sing, for my music… my music…"_ his voice and facial expressions softened before lulling her gently…

_"Night-time sharpens, heightens each sensation… Darkness stirs and wakes imagination… Silently the senses abandon their defences…"_ Anastasia looked at him; spellbound, left speechless as he serenaded her. The Phantom gently moved to her as he continued _"Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendour… Grasp it, sense it… tremulous and tender"_ before making her look into his eyes _"Turn your face away from the garish light of day, turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light and listen to the music of the night…"_

The young woman felt the world fade away as he sang passionately and longingly _"Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams! Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before! Close your eyes let your spirit start to soar… And you'll live as you've never lived before. Softly, deftly, music shall surround you… Feel it, hear it closing in around you… Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind in this darkness which you know you cannot fight - the darkness of the music of the night…"_

She felt her body and her mind succumb to the Phantom's song while he gently caressed her face _"Floating, falling, sweet intoxication! Touch me, trust me savour each sensation!"_ Anastasia felt the cold, smooth surface of the porcelain mask he wore before firmly taking her hand and leading her to a mirror draped with a large cloth.

_"Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in to the power of the music that I write - the power of the music of the night!"_ He unveiled the sheet which obscured the mirror, revealing the image of Anastasia a perfect wax-face impression, wearing a wedding gown. Anastasia moved slowly and hesitantly towards it when suddenly the image thrusts its hands through the mirror towards her. She fainted before the Phantom caught her and carried her to a sofa, where he gently laid her down.

* * *

Gleb stared at the delicate, petite, breathing figure in his arms… _how_ serene and angelic she looked as she slept… _oh, she truly was his angel of music… "You alone can make my song take flight…"_ he serenaded softly as he gently placed her on a comfortable sofa adorned with pillows, covering her with his cloak as a makeshift blanket _"help me make the music of the night…"_ Gleb gently brushed away a strand of golden-blonde hair that fell across the young woman's forehead before admiring her ethereal beauty… it was _only_ his… and _his alone_… he snapped out of his trance before playing a piece on his organ slowly… music was _his_ _soul,_ and _his soul_ was _his music._ _Music_ was _his life and his religion._ _Music did not judge him or reject him_ for his deep, dark secrets, but it _empowered him_ beyond _all men._ _Music_ had given an invisible man a voice… so he _lived it, breathed it and drank it_ like a man _dying of thirst._ _Music_ was the centre of his world and without it, he would have died.

Returning to the piece, Gleb bent his head down and closed his eyes. His long, slender fingers glided across the black and ivory keys with breath-taking speed and dexterity. He felt this music saturating him, illuminating his thoughts with a serenity he had _never_ known… after several minutes of playing, he then brought his hands to rest on the keyboard and sat motionless, fully absorbed in his thoughts. With a deep breath, the name and face of his muse crystallized in his mind and he whispered the name to himself, _"Anastasia,"_ he began _"you are my muse for this extraordinary music…"_

* * *

**The next two or three chapters are gonna be flashbacks explaining Gleb/The Phantom's past before leading up to "I Remember/Stranger Than You Dreamt It"**

**Please review!**


	6. The Scars

**Hey guys! This chapter is gonna be flashbacks centering Gleb/The Phantom's life before we get to "I Remember/Stranger Than You Dreamt It". Enjoy!**

* * *

Gleb slowly unmasked his face, exposing his deformity to the cold and unforgiving surface of the imposing mirror. He kept his eyes tightly shut, he didn't want to confront his own reflection, an unlovable monster… too many raw memories of his past… for most of his life, he had only known anguish and bullying, never once did anyone show him even a fraction of love, calling him _a hideous freak, a monster, a pathetic excuse for a human being…_

* * *

_Ten years ago…_

_Gleb was only eight when the travelling circus came to St. Petersburg. He was huddled against the metal bars and his face was cast in the shadows._

_"Behold! The devil's child, the hideous monster!" The circus-master, Gorlinsky, announced "Its deformities are so horrifying that its own father didn't love him!" At the word 'father', Gleb shrunk back even further. His father had died of shame because of him and his mother, well… he never knew her…_

_But it was clearly not the reaction Gorlinsky was hoping for. The man unlocked the cage and dragged the boy out of the cage and into the light, causing several people to scream. And why were they screaming you may ask? For you see, he was distorted and deformed on the right side of his face… to the point where it looked impossibly inhuman…_

_Suddenly, the circus-master had a whip in his hand and mercilessly beat the boy. Everyone in the crowd was screaming as he cruelly whipped him. The filthy floor of the cage was covered in blood. Gleb felt defenceless and vulnerable, slowly and torturously moving his hand to cover the right side of his face… the terrified crowd were hurried out of the circus amidst the pain-filled screams of the boy as he was beaten so severely that he could only lie on the ground while the whip incised in his flesh._

_As Gorlinsky greedily counted the money given, Gleb found a rope and quickly strangled the man with it. Mercilessly ignoring his groans of pain, the boy quickly ran away and seized the opportunity to run away from this terrible place… And meanwhile leaving the man to his death…_

* * *

Taking a deep breath to calm himself down, he opened his eyes and greeted his distortion… This was what he was… a monster covered in scars and deformities… an unloved monster repulsed by society… he felt the scars on himself and looked at the deformity in the mirror… how could Anastasia _ever_ love him? No matter how gifted he was, no matter how beautiful music he created, she would be the same as others… fearful of a monstrous-looking person like him… For _who_ could ever learn to love a monster like him?


	7. The Man Behind The Mask

**This is where the story gets pretty dark. Don't say I didn't warn you…**

* * *

When Anastasia slowly opened her eyes, her senses were overwhelmed with new textures, new smells, new sounds, and new sights. Her face was being caressed by black silk pillows and sheets, and her body was being soothed by red velvet blankets. She took in the scents of dying candles and roses.

Anastasia slowly brushed away a few strands of hair that landed on her forehead as she took in her new surroundings. Everything the night before felt like a blur… Suddenly her ears and her mind were being serenaded by the sounds of haunting music echoing off the rocky surface surrounding her. She almost felt hypnotized by its strange melody, and how, despite its unusual rhythm, it still sounded so ... beautiful. The melody consisted of the sounds of an organ, all creating a soft yet deep sound. The mysterious music lured her outside the bedroom and made her remember what had happened the day before… Candles, a cloaked man, and… a voice singing to enchant her body and mind…

Her head was riddled with questions as to where this cave could be. Was it far from the Opera or close to it? The dark cave's source of light came from candlelight before she could make out the shape of a cloaked man with a white mask that obscured half his face… curiously, the young woman wondered to herself _"Who was that shape in the shadows? Whose is the face in the mask?"_

As she got closer, the sight of his mask reminded her of all those rumours. The rumours spread around by the Opera staff and performers. Some said that there were dark unspeakable horrors hidden underneath the Phantom's cloak and mask. Especially under his mask. Some said that the Phantom's face was deformed beyond measure; so deformed in fact, that his face was no longer that of a human. Some people had even said that the Phantom's face was a bare white skull with empty eye sockets. However, curiosity got the better of the blonde woman and without thinking, she quickly pried away his mask before he let out an ear-piercing howl of anger…

* * *

Gleb turned to face the offender who unveiled him before quickly covering his face with his hand and spat out angrily _"You,"_ before shoving her roughly as the young woman curled up into a ball "_What_ have you done?"

"Please…" she whimpered, shaking in fear "Show some compassion…"  
"The world showed no compassion to me!" he bellowed before his voice and face softened "Fear can turn to love—you'll learn to see… To find the man behind the monster… This repulsive carcass, who seems a beast but secretly dreams of beauty… Secretly... secretly… Oh, my angel…"

* * *

Somehow, sympathy and fear welled up in the young woman as she handed him the mask as he murmured in her ear "Come, we must return— Those two fools who run my theatre will be missing you…" as he took her hand and led her the way back home…

* * *

**Next up! Vlad and Lily have far too many notes for their taste!**


	8. The Prima Donna

**So… this is one of the plot deviations… I decided to have Maria to sing "Magical Lasso" after I was inspired by a bootleg on YouTube where Meg sang "Magical Lasso". Also, it was for misleading… Oh, I said too much! Enjoy!**

* * *

Maria Romanov pulled out a long, white handkerchief, demonstrating to the other girls the rumours she overheard earlier "Like yellow parchment is his skin, a great black hole serves as the nose that _never_ grew!" as the girls listened closely and stared at her in awe as she tied the handkerchief around her neck "You must be _always_ on your guard" The young woman pulled the handkerchief tighter around her neck, imitating the gesture "Or he will catch you with his magical lasso!" Terrified shrieks rose from the girls as they ran away for their lives.

Madame Feoderovna, who coincidentally happened to be passing by, warned to Maria cryptically "Those who speak of what they know… Find too late, that prudent silence is wise, Maria Romanov, hold your tongue… He will burn you with the heat of his eyes!"

* * *

"This is _madness_!" Count Vladimir Popov murmured as he stared at the offending piece of paper and began to read its contents out loud "Dear Count Vladimir Popov, what a charming gala… Mademoiselle Nikolaevna Romanov was in a word, sublime… We were hardly bereft when Madame Plisetsky left… On that note: The diva's a disaster, must you cast her when she's seasons past her prime?" before examining it again "Well at least he wrote my name correctly, give him props for that…"

"And I have one too!" Countess Lily Malevsky-Malevitch sighed in annoyance "Dear Countess Lily, just a brief reminder… My salary has not been paid! Send it care of the Ghost by return of post, P.T.O. No one likes a debtor so it's better if my orders are obeyed!" Oh, God in heaven, what was it with the Opera Ghost madness? Clearly _everyone_, including themselves were going mad!

"Who would have the audacity to send this…"  
"Apparently a guy named 'The Phantom of the Opera'…"

"Just _who_ does he think he is?"

"It is nothing short of shocking!"

"In addition he wants money!"

"What a funny apparition…"

* * *

They were interrupted as the young count, Dmitri Sudayev, burst into the room "Where is she?"

"You mean Madame Plisetsky?" Genuine confusion was etched onto the managers' faces.

"Where is Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov?" he continued "I want an answer!"

"Well, how should we know?" Count Popov grumbled, clearly annoyed at the mess they landed themselves into.

"I believe _you_ were the ones sending the notes!" Dmitri pointed an accusing finger at the two

"Of course not!" Countess Lily slapped her forehead in exasperation.

"She's not with you then?" He raised a quizzical brow as the two nodded before handing them the note he was given "If you didn't write it, _who_ did?"

"Do not fear for Miss Nikolaevna Romanov. The Angel of Music has her under his wing, make no attempt to see her again…"

* * *

Natalya Plisetsky burst into the room, thundering clouds over her and her face was as red as a boiled beetroot before bellowing angrily "Where is he?"

"Ah, Madame," Count Popov forced a smile "Welcome back!"

"Your precious patron… _Where_ is he?"

"I have your letter… A letter which I rather _resent_…" the diva snarled as she shoved the note in front of the young man's face.

"Did _you_ send it?" Countess Lily threw a cursory glance at Dmitri.

_"Of course not!"_ He raised his arms and let out a low growl in frustration. _Where was Anastasia? Who was this 'angel of music'? Who was the prankster behind all these sick jokes? So many unanswered questions!_

"_You_ didn't send it?" She pressed on, her face and tone unwavering.

_"Of course not!"_ The young count bellowed; annoyed at how she accused him so easily.

"You dare to tell me that this is _not_ the letter _you_ sent?"

* * *

"What's going on?" Count Ipolitov burst into the room, coincidentally ending the argument about to ensue between the diva and his friend. Dmitri shushed him as he read the letter out loud "Your days at the St. Petersburg Opera House are numbered, Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov will be singing on your behalf tonight. Be prepared for a great misfortune should you attempt to take her place."

"Far too many notes for _my_ taste" Count Popov clucked his tongue "And most of them about Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov. All we've heard since we came is Miss Romanov's name."

* * *

Madame Feoderovna entered the room, accompanied by her granddaughter, Anastasia "Miss Romanov has returned."

"Anastasia!" Dmitri cried, hugging her tightly before noticing scarlet glint on her cheek. "Anastasia… there's blood on your cheek… _what_ happened?"

Subconsciously, Anastasia reached out a hand to cover the little wound and averted her gaze "It's… nothing…"

He let out a sigh of relief as he pulled her closer "Never mind… what matters is that you're back here, safe _and_ sound…"

"Yeah…" her voice faltered as she tried to force a note of optimism in it.

"For that matter, will_ she_ sing it?" Natalya asked impatiently, tapping her foot to the ground as genuine confusion crossed the young woman's face.

"Another note…" Madame Feoderovna took out an envelope as the managers let out a groan. They glanced at the cryptic message the Phantom had sent.

"I have now sent you several notes of the most amiable nature, detailing how my theatre is to be run. You have not followed my instruction… I shall give you one last chance… Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov has returned to you, and I am anxious her career should progress… In the new production of Il Muto, you will therefore cast Natalya as the lady-in-waiting and put Miss Romanov in the role of Countess. The role which Miss Romanov plays calls for charm and appeal. The role of the lady-in-waiting is silent which makes my casting, in a word, ideal. I shall watch the performance from my normal seat in box 5, which will be kept empty for me. Should these commands be ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur… From, the Phantom of the Opera…"

"This is all a ploy to help Anastasia!" Natalya cried after a moment of silence, pointing an accusing finger at Dmitri "I know who sent this! The count, her lover!"

"Whatever next?" Count Popov was befuddled at the situation and ran his fingers through his hair. "This is a joke!" he stood in front of the diva who was about to leave, trying to restore calm.

"You are our star!"  
"Madame!"

"And _always_ will be!"  
"The man's _just_ a sinister jokester!"

"We _don't_ take orders!"

"Miss Romanov will be the lady-in-waiting. The silent role. Madame Plisetsky would be playing the lead!" Countess Lily concluded, dismissing these notes as a joke.

"No… but… the Phantom… he…" Anastasia whimpered before being interrupted by the managers trying to please the prima donna.  
"Prima donna, the _world_ bows upon_ you_!"

"Madame, sing for us! Don't be a martyr! Our _star_!" Count Popov put emphasis on the word 'star', "Your public _needs_ you!"

"We _need_ you, too!" His wife interjected.

"Wouldn't you rather have _your_ precious little ingénue?" She pointed towards Anastasia who was standing in the corner of the room, in the arms of Dmitri.

"Madame, _no!_ The _world_ wants _you!"_  
"Prima donna, your devotees are on their knees to admire _you!"_  
"Can you bow out when they're shouting your name?"  
"Think of how they _all_ adore _you!"_

"Prima donna, enchant us once again!"

Can you deny us the triumph in store?"

"But there's_ a public who needs you!"_  
"Think of your _public who needs you!"_

"Think of their cry of undying support!"

"Sing Prima donna _once more!"_  
After a moment of thought, Natalya smirked like a cat who got the cream "The stress that falls upon a famous prima donna! Terrible diseases, coughs and colds and sneezes! Still, the driest throat will reach the highest note in search of perfect opera!"

"Those who don't heed his word," Madame Feoderovna warned cryptically "shall suffer great consequences. For this is a game you _cannot_ hope to win."

"Light up the stage with that age-old rapport! Sing prima donna, once more!" The diva continued, not taking the old woman's advice.

Anastasia felt a wave of dread crash over her as she heard a threatening whisper… _"So, it is to be war between us! If these demands are not met, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur!"_ She clutched her stomach tightly as Dmitri pulled her closer to comfort her.

* * *

On the night of Il Muto, everything was going to plan and the St. Petersburg Opera House was as peaceful as a fairy tale. From the Grimm brothers, which was _not_ so peaceful at all. The managers and the young count were hectic for the outcome. Doubt rose up in Dmitri, was it really a prankster or was it an actual threat?

"Gentlemen, if you would care to take your seats? I shall be sitting in Box Five" He knew it was risky, but he had to confirm his suspicions.

"Do you really think that's _wise,_ monsieur?" Count Ipolitov enquired.

"There would appear to be no seats available, other than Box Five..."

Count Ipolitov heard a rustle and dashed backstage to find out the source of the noise… the answer came to him shortly after he saw a masked man…

"You…" the count threatened "You were the Phantom all along!"

The Phantom indifferently pulled out a red rope before the count let out a muffled cry of agony…

* * *

**Oh shoot! A cliff-hanger? Welp, wait till the next chapter to see what happens next! *cue evil laughing*.**


	9. The Disaster

**This chapter's pretty straightforward so… not much to say.**

* * *

_"They say that this youth has set my Lady's heart aflame!"_ A chorus member sang as the opera began.

_"His Lordship, sure, would die of shock!"_ Another interjected.

_"His Lordship is a laughingstock!"_ One snickered whilst in character as the events of Il Muto played out…

_"Should he suspect her, God protect her!"_ Their voices rang together _"Shame! Shame! Shame! This faithless lady's bound for Hades! Shame! Shame! Shame!"_

"A disaster beyond your imagination will occur! Well, _this_ is hardly a disaster, so far!" Count Popov scoffed, putting down his opera glasses. Little did they know… that the disaster came soon after he said those words…

"DID I _NOT_ INSTRUCT THAT BOX FIVE WAS TO BE KEPT EMPTY?!" The managers jumped out of their seats as Dmitri cautiously looked around the opera house.

"He's there!" Maria shrieked backstage "The Phantom of the Opera!"

"It's him…" Anastasia shrunk back at the familiar voice, cowering in fear "I _know_ it… it's him…" Hushed whispers escaped from the crowd.

"Is this part of the show?"

"Who is that?"  
"Is the theatre haunted?"

"Your part is _silent_, _little toad!_" The prima donna hissed under her breath, pointing a finger in front of the trembling girl's face…

"A toad, Madame? Perhaps it is you who are the toad..." The voice continued before fading away with each word…

"Maestro, please continue," Natalya waved a hand dismissively before warbling the next few verses of the song… Anastasia sat there, trembling and unable to say a word… for she was not able to speak… but her suspicions came true at the worst timing…

"Poor fool, he makes me laugh! Hahahahaha! Haha-AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Anastasia's gut twisted at the sight of the corpse of Count Ipolitov as a piece of scenery fell over, revealing the mutilated sight… the other chorus girls and the audience members shrieked at the horrific sight.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen," Countess Lily ran to the stage "Please do not panic! We will invest-" However, more shrieks arose 'Why is it that when people say not to panic, it achieves the opposite of the desired effect?!"

It was a gigantic pandemonium at the opera house as the managers tried to restore peace to the audience but everyone knew that they were terrified by what happened nonetheless… the managers themselves did not want to admit that they were partly to blame for this disaster. They had ignored the ghost's orders and had cast Natalya as the leading role to please the public, not some spirit who wanted to launch Miss Romanov's career!

* * *

"Anastasia! Anastasia!" Dmitri was frantic as he fought his way through the crowd. He needed to reach the stage. He needed to make sure his friend was alright… When he arrived, he gently caressed Anastasia's tear-stricken face, biting her lip which was still red from stage makeup… "Oh, Dima…"

She threw herself into his arms and he embraced her back before pulling away and cupping her face "Anastasia… are you alright? I was so worried…" He felt a hand tighten on his arm "We have to go outside, now… It's not safe…"

"Not safe? What the- Anastasia!" he turned around before seeing her dart towards the staircase leading to the rooftop… "Anastasia! Wait! We'll be safe from what?" Dmitri cried out before bolting up the stairs…


	10. The Promise and The Betrayal

**And you get Dimya fluff, And you get Dimya fluff, everyone gets Dimya fluff! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧**

**Fun fact: I wrote this before "The Disaster"**

**"All I Ask Of You" is honestly one of the most romantic songs in history and I hope I didn't ruin it/screw it up! And we're halfway through ****\\( ﾟヮﾟ)/**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Anastasia ran as far as her legs could carry her, up to the rooftop… she felt her gut recoil in fear and fought the urge to vomit as hot tears streamed down her face… she felt a shadow loom over her and felt her body begin to tense… before a familiar voice enquired "Anastasia, _why_ have you come here?" Relief flooded her heart as she recognized the familiar face… "Dmitri…"  
"We must return now! They'll wonder where you went!" Genuine concern was etched onto his face. Subconsciously, she clutched her stomach tighter and began to rub her arms to keep herself warm as a wave of dread and fear loomed over her…  
"He'll _kill_ us… once _he_ finds us _there_…"

"Anastasia, what do you mean?"  
"He _has_ to _kill_ a thousand men to get what he wants!"

"This man has gone too far…" she felt his warm hands wipe away the tears from her cold, ashen cheeks "That's all he is, Little Anya." The young woman felt like pulling him close when he used her childhood nickname "This cruel prankster has used you without us knowing it until…" she saw Dmitri flinch at what he was about to say…

* * *

"But…" Dmitri heard Anastasia sniffle "He's my angel of music…" for some reason, when she said those words, he couldn't help but feel a little pang of anger and jealousy, it was almost as if… she was_ defending_ the murderer and she was being fooled by that prankster…

"What kind of angel _murders_ people?" the young count didn't bother hiding his frustration now "He hides in the shadows and had_ kidnapped_ you! He's_ obsessed_ with you and I'll make sure _he_ doesn't take advantage of you again!"

"But…" he saw her flinch in hesitation, tugging her honey-blonde hair "He taught me to sing… I owed him _everything_…"

"Then I'll take you far away, far away from him…"

Anastasia wrung her hands "He told me that I had to choose… between singing or you… he thinks you'll make me give up everything I love…"

"Anastasia," he held her hand gently "He's trying to turn you against me… I'd _never_ make you give up singing, if you love singing, _why_ would I take it away? _He's_ the true enemy,"

"His face… He was hiding _all this time_ because… of how _terrifying_ he looks… when he kidnapped me, I unmasked him and _no_ rumour or story could describe what I saw… it was _hardly_ even a face… I… I was _so scared_ when he pushed me and bellowed at me with such rage… I…" her voice hitched.

"Shh, shh… It was a dream… and nothing else…" before fixing his eyes on her "Tell me about that night you were kidnapped…"

* * *

Anastasia closed her eyes, trying to recall the events of the kidnapping "I went through the mirror… there was a lair and there was music… he played songs on the organ…"

"What songs?" he enquired.

"Different things… songs he composed, songs from Hannibal and Il Muto…" the realization had struck her "Oh Dima, he planned this _all along_… It was _my_ fault that Count Ipolitov had died… if I _knew_ sooner, I-" she was cut off by the sobs that she tried to suppress… she knew any tears would give her away but now, she didn't even bother hiding them anymore…

"Anastasia…It wasn't your fault… Please, Anastasia…" Dmitri moved closer before a haunting voice echoed _"Anastasia…"_ she knew it… It was him… now, she knew the true dangers that the Phantom could possess… and even when she tried to run away, he's _always_ there…

She jumped to face Dmitri "What was that?" before crouching and dissolving into tears…

* * *

Dmitri's heart ached. Seeing strong, radiant Anastasia cry was the most heart-breaking sight to him… he had to comfort her somehow… he pulled her close into a hug, feeling warm tears soaking into his vest…

"Take me _now,_" she pleaded after a moment of silence "Take me_ far away,_ Dmitri... Somewhere he would _never_ find us..."

"I promise I will..." his eyes were gentle "I will lead you to a world of light, and the dark and your fears will _never_ haunt you anymore... And we shall _never_ speak of the dark_ again…_"

"Say the word and I'll follow you _anywhere_…" her eyes brightened and he found himself smiling as he clutched her hand… "Share each day with me… Each night, each morning…"

"Say you love me…" the young woman smiled back

"You know I do…" A sudden warmth filled his chest as he said those words… a warmth he never felt before… how _strange_ it was… and yet… how _powerful_ it was… he looked at her sincerely with those blue eyes that _enchanted and bewitched_ him so, for some reason, that warm feeling began to expand in him… quickly and without warning, he felt hands around his neck and Anastasia pulling his face into hers… as their lips connected, he stiffened in surprise before relaxing and wrapping his arms around her waist… the young count found himself liking the kiss and her soft lips felt warm on him. Her gentle hand caressed his jawline and he, at last, closed his eyes, savouring the moment between them… As they softly separated, he gazed at her and smiled before lifting her into the air and gently placing her down… she squealed in delight as he did so, it was music to his ears… and that _beautiful_ smile… he was lost in that moment of bliss he had just experienced…

"I always dreamed that my first kiss was with a prince," her voice cut through his thoughts, snapping Dmitri back to reality.

"Me? A prince?" he bashfully blushed at her sudden confession "I-I'm not a prince…"  
"Close enough," she shrugged, laughing before her expression turned serious "I should go now, I don't want to worry them any further after what happened…"

"Alright then," he grinned "As you wish, _little Anya…_" he saw her proceed to the door, waiting for him "Anastasia," he whispered, tracing the phantom outline of that kiss on his lips, not wanting to let go of that moment… the realization that he was truly in love with her… _"I love you…"_ before joining her, hand in hand as the two went back into the building…

* * *

Gleb slowly emerged from the statue when the two disappeared, heartbreak and anger rolled over him as he replayed the events that he saw, hidden from view… "Oh, _my angel_…" hot tears of anger and betrayal rolled down his cheeks "_I_ gave _you my music_… _you_ were _my masterpiece…_ and _only mine…_ and _you_ let _that_ pretty boy take _you_ away from _me_? _He doesn't love you, he just wants your voice and beauty_… _you_ were _my magnum opus, my angel, my muse…_" Fists clutched tight, with a hardened heart, he squared his shoulders as he declared "So be it… your lover thinks I am the bad guy… Well, I'll show _you_ who's the _bad guy!_ You shall curse the day you did not do all that_ I_ asked of _you!_"

* * *

Dmitri looked on from the wings as the cast of Il Muto took shaky bows. Suddenly, a cry from the audience drew his attention. As several more shrieks filled the opera house, fear lurched in his stomach… _"No!"_

The chandelier began to swing wildly and people rushed through the aisles to get away. Chains snapped and the light fixture plunged down and because of the chains still holding it, it swung to the stage… faster than lightning, the young count bolted out onto the stage and pushed Anastasia out of the way as he shielded her body with his. The chandelier shattered on the stage just feet from where the performers were… she was sobbing but he could barely hear her over the sound of his own pounding heart… "The Phantom… It was _him…_"

He gently ran his hair through her tresses, murmuring words of comfort into her ear "It's all right, you're safe now…" but all he could think was _"I could have lost her, oh God… I almost lost her…"_

* * *

**DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN! And we'll be right back after this short intermission!**


	11. The Masquerade

**This chapter's gonna be one heck of a doozy so buckle up and sit tight! We also learn Madame Feoderovna's connection to the Phantom/Gleb.**

* * *

_St. Petersburg Opera House, 1901_

One year had passed since the chandelier crash, and the prankster seemed to have disappeared since that incident… in honour of Christmas coming around, the managers decided to throw a masquerade party to bring in a new year. It was a lively celebration with a spectacle of colourful costumes on display. And the Phantom was fortunately nowhere in sight!

"Oh, my love," Lily smiled, putting down her mask "what a _splendid_ party!"

"Ah, Christmas! The time of the year!" Vlad raised a glass, leading his wife to do the same, causing their glasses to collide "Here's a prosperous toast to the upcoming year new year! With no more pranksters or so-called ghosts! It's _such a shame_ that the Phantom couldn't be here!"

"What a night," Madame Feoderovna smiled raising up a glass…

"What a crowd!" Maria chimed in, imitating her grandmother…

"Makes you glad!" Vlad agreed.

"Makes you proud!" Lily smiled like a cat who got the cream "It's been a year of delight and Elysian peace! And we can _finally_ breathe at last!"

"No more notes!" Natalya added.

"No more ghosts," her husband nodded his head eagerly.

"Here's to life and a prosperous year!"

"Here's to a new chandelier!"

"Here's to happiness and freedom!"

"Here's to the smashing Christmas masquerade!"

The group clinked their glasses to the blessings of the upcoming new year.

* * *

As everyone celebrated, there was a particular couple hidden away in a corner of the ballroom having a hushed conversation…

"Could the engagement be a secret?" Anastasia fingered the chain around her neck, its end tucked safely in the neckline of her gown "After all, things are more fun when they're secret…" She was wearing a Prussian blue gown, for the colour blue brought out her eyes and her blonde hair complimented it well, which was loosened in soft waves down her shoulders… she had her reasons to hide it… for society would look down on the both of them if they knew…

"Why does it have to be a secret?" Dmitri wondered, breaking her out of her train of thought and snapping her to the present "What do we have to hide?"

"Let's not talk about it…" she said in a vain attempt to change the subject "Let's wait until the time is right,"

* * *

"Anastasia, you're _free_…" he sighed, wondering what all the secrecy was about. Dmitri often felt a pang of jealousy when he knew she was keeping secrets from him… he scolded himself for having childish feelings of jealousy but… after all, it was an engagement, not a crime "What's there to be afraid of, it's been a year since he disappeared!"

_"Please pretend,"_ her blue eyes were filled with desperation "You will understand in time!" before his fiancée was swept away in the spectacle of colours… he found himself smiling as she danced with the other chorus girls, smiling after a long time… Anastasia had been so sombre ever since the chandelier incident and he felt a heavy weight being lifted from his chest as he knew she was in good spirits… however, the happiness was short-lived as the buzz and activity stopped, for a grotesque figure suddenly appeared at the top of the staircase… Dressed all in crimson, with a death's head visible inside the hood of his robe, the man descended the staircase as Dmitri subconsciously shielded the young woman with his body… feeing a familiar sense of danger from the man…

* * *

"Why so silent," the voice taunted, _it was him_… from the moment his deep, thunderous voice reached her ears; she _knew_ it was the Phantom… "Did you _really think_ I have left you for good?" letting out a low, rumbly, mocking laugh; he pulled out a manuscript "Have you missed me? Well, I have written an opera for you to perform!"

Anastasia felt her stomach lurch within a short distance as he handed it to the managers "_Don Juan Triumphant!_ You _shall comply_ for there are _worse things_ than a shattered chandelier!" The ominous warning made her skin pale and every ounce of courage was sapped from her as she faced her mentor who was slowly approaching the two… with a sheer force, his cold hand gripped her arm tightly and inspected the necklace before yanking it off…  
_"Your chains are still mine,"_ he drew out each word slowly, as if she were a disobedient child being scolded. But each word was menacing before he boldly declared_ "You will sing for me!"_ And in a flash, he was gone… causing the attendees to panic…

* * *

One day since the Phantom's reappearance… the young count had sought answers about the masked man and came over to interrogate Marie over a cup of tea…

"Madame," Dmitri's expression was serious and intent, wanting to get to business about the Phantom… "Please, for all our sakes…"

Marie gave a fatigued sigh, realizing that there was no other choice… and secrecy would keep everyone in danger "Very well, but it must be a secret…"

"Of course," Somehow, she felt she could trust the man…

"It was years ago…" Marie looked off into the distance, her memories resurfacing…_ "So many years ago…"_

* * *

_When Marie had came to the circus, she had been horrified at what she had saw… a freak sideshow. The deformed people lived in horrible condition, all for the entertainment…_

_"Behold," an announcer cried "The devil's child!" she saw the boy shrink back even further as he continued. In one moment, the boy was dragged into the light and forced him into the ground as several people screamed… for deformity covered half of his face… she felt pity for him…_

_She was snapped back to reality as he carried a scourge in one hand, whipping the boy and the filthy floor was covered in blood… Wincing, the boy slowly moved a hand to cover his face… it was his only protection… the terrified crowd were hurried out amidst the pain-filled screams of the boy who was being beaten so severely as the whip incised his flesh… Marie shoved her way through the crowd, heart-broken at the sight but someone grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the circus… no matter how hard she tried to wrench free to do something, they would not let go…_

* * *

"The boy went missing," Madame Feoderovna's voice broke at the memory "I searched for him but… _he was gone_…"

A soft _"My God…"_ was all the man could muster, shock in his eyes before clarifying "So he _escaped?_"

"It appears so…" the old woman nodded her head shakily "The world believed he was dead…"

"But he _wasn't_ dead…"

"The world forgot about him… but_ not me… I-I never could…_ then, I began to notice a figure hiding in the shadows a year ago…"  
"You mean he-"

"He escaped and came here… I don't know how he came here but… I found him a place where no one could find him… far from the eyes of the opera house…"

"The place Anastasia told me about…"

"It became his artistic domain… he's a genius… he's an arch-architect and designer, he's a- composer and a- magician… a _genius,_ young man!"  
"Clearly, Madame Feoderovna," his expression and voice solemn "_Genius_ has turned to _madness…_" and he wanted to put an end to this madness _once and for all…_

* * *

**Before y'all berate Dima for being 'insensitive' for what the Phantom had gone through, remember that tragic backstories EXPLAIN bad behaviour, they do NOT EXCUSE bad behaviour (yes, there's a difference). And as quoted by Jake Peralta from Brooklyn 99: "Cool motive, still murder!"**


End file.
